


Eveille

by smolartist2021



Series: Mozalieri [2]
Category: Mozart l'Opéra Rock - Mozart/Baguian & Guirao, Mozart l'Opéra Rock - Mozart/Baguian & Guirao RPF
Genre: First Kisses, Fluff, M/M, Sleep Deprivation, the tension between these two oh my gooood
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-23
Updated: 2020-11-23
Packaged: 2021-03-10 06:55:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 844
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27679064
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/smolartist2021/pseuds/smolartist2021
Summary: Continuation of Sommeil. I know this particular fandom is quite small and there's not nearly enough Mozalieri fan fiction out there so enjoy!
Relationships: Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart & Antonio Salieri, Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart/Antonio Salieri
Series: Mozalieri [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1944499
Kudos: 24





	Eveille

**Author's Note:**

> Continuation of Sommeil. I know this particular fandom is quite small and there's not nearly enough Mozalieri fan fiction out there so enjoy!

Antonio woke up confused, briefly forgetting last night’s excursions. He rubbed his eyes and sat up, looking down at the blanket over him. He was still in his dark clothes. His hair had fallen from it’s ponytail however. He found the ribbon and picked it up. He looked around the room and it all came back. Late night songwriting. He had found his way to another room because he heard music. He had found Mozart still there last night. Then he collapsed from exhaustion and he forgot what happened from there. 

He stood up, setting the blanket aside and tying his hair up again. He heard soft musical notes coming from the piano and saw Wolfgang sitting there with a pile of music sheet. He walked towards the other and peered at the sheets. They were his. He had been working on them for the past few weeks. But it seemed that the blond musician had added his own notes. In fact, he had a whole page written. He swallowed hard and sat on the piano stool beside him. Mozart gave him some room and glanced at him.

“I see you are awake. I hope you do not mind me adding a few notes. I could not help but wonder what kept you here so late last night, so I looked around and found your unfinished opera. It’s quite amazing so far. Why did you stop writing?”

Salieri could barely bring himself to words. He cleared his throat. “I, uh, I reached a stumbling block. It has to be finished soon and I do not even have a climax for it. No conclusion or ideas about what to add for an ending. The notes seemed to be out of my reach. I have been here for days, unable to think or play clearly. And last night was the first time I have slept in nearly two weeks."

Wolfgang was astounded. “Two weeks, maestro? I do not even stay up past two days! No wonder you are unable to focus! You are burnt out.” He was concerned. Worry written on his face. Salieri felt like a child being scolded. He swallowed hard and looked at the black and white keys. 

“I do not mean to worry you but things were going very well. I had the notes, I envisioned it in my head and that is why I found myself not sleeping. As my deadline gets closer, I feel myself panicking, grasping for any ideas of how to continue but all ideas slip my mind. I can barely think.” He avoided eye contact, but he could feel the eyes of his fellow musician watching his every move. He placed his fingers on the keys and looked at what Wolfgang had written on the music sheets. He started playing. 

It was...sublime. As always. Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart and his wonderful mind. A true genius and underrated for his time. How he envied the talent he had. How he wished he had the ability to create as beautiful compositions as him. Sure, Antonio Salieri was quite popular now but what about in years to come? Would his name weather through it? Or would he be lost with time? He had so many doubts. He didn't know when he stopped playing, couldn't seem to escape his mind and his thoughts until he felt a warm hand on his. A voice bringing him back into the present.

"Maestro Salieri? Antonio?" Mozart had been listening until Antonio stopped. He was concerned. There always seemed to be a storm in his head. He wanted to help, but he did not know how. 

Antonio felt his cheeks turn red in embarrassment as he glanced at Wolfgang. He pulled his hand away and stood up, gathering his music sheet. 

"I apologize for wasting your time. I am sure you are very busy and the last thing you need is me interrupting." He said as he closed his folder.

"Salieri."

"I am sorry, Wolfgang. I hate being a bother for you. You should not have to worry about me or my compositions and operas. Your talent would go to waste helping me." He headed to the door.

Mozart got up. "Salieri. Salieri!" None seemed to work so he rushed over and grabbed his arm. "Antonio, wait."

The Italian paused and looked back at the blond male. So many feelings stirred inside him and he couldn't stop himself. He dropped his folder filled with his music and pressed his lips against Mozart's. Time seemed to stop. For a fraction of a second, Wolfgang hesitated before he finally kissed him, gripping Antonio's arms. After what felt like ages, in reality it was only a few minutes, they pulled away and stared at each other.

The Austrian pulled the Italian closer, away from the scattered music sheets. "Stay. Please." He whispered. Antonio nodded before kissing him again. This time Wolfgang reciprocated immediately. 

The following week, Antonio Salieri's opera was finished and beginning production. And who better to watch his rehearsals from backstage than Wolfgang Amadeus Mozart himself?


End file.
